


The Storm

by albatross1013



Category: Outlander (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:42:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25918273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/albatross1013/pseuds/albatross1013
Summary: Sam & Cait meet for lunch. Bad things happen when Sam comes to the rescue.
Relationships: Caitriona Balfe & Sam Heughan, Caitriona Balfe/Sam Heughan
Comments: 58
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In case you missed it, this is REAL PERSON FIC between Sam Heughan & Caitriona Balfe. If this personally offends you, I would advise you to just move along. 
> 
> Requested by theoutlander on Tumblr (seriously check out her work!) She asked for angst. I hope this meets her expectations.
> 
> I am immune to triggers so I don't know what to say. There is the aftermath of violence. Emergency room. Blood. *shrugs*
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. I earn nothing. I am just having some fun to amuse myself and work out some shit.
> 
> I owe a debt of gratitude to my kickass beta, audramh. She is the only reason any of this sees the light of day.

By the time Caitriona reached the small coffee shop to meet Sam for lunch, she was soaked through. Hair plastered to her head and neck. Socks and shoes squelching water between her toes with every step. Her tank and leggings took on the appearance of being painted on her naked flesh. She was miserable.

It had been such a beautiful morning that she had decided a brisk walk was in order. Alas, halfway to her destination, the wind shifted, clouds rolled in like an ominous wave and it began to rain. And rain. And RAIN. Muttering curses about her stupidity, Cait sloshed her way across the street. She had lived in Scotland long enough, she KNEW better than to be wooed by a sunny sky. It was a liar. Deceptive. Crooked. False.

One more corner and she would be there. The idea of a hot cup of her favorite tea and Sam's ever present leather jacket wrapped around her shoulders quickened her pace. Her head tilted down against the rain, she rounded the corner and looked up, ready to reach for the door.

Flashing lights. A small crowd of onlookers gathering, cell phones aiming toward the scene. Cait's heart went out to whomever was at the center of the commotion until she caught a glimpse of the person being attended to by the paramedics. The familiar rain-darkened curls, the breadth of the shoulders wrapped in leather that she knew so well. Her heart stuttered, jumped and, as her knees started to buckle, it slammed into a frenetic pace that had her sprinting toward the scene.

A policeman's hands grasped her shoulders as she burst through the crowd, "No, Ma'am. You must stay back."

Her eyes glued to the figure on the ground, she watched in horror as the pool of blood spreading around him became diluted and faded in the rain. "No, no. Let me through!" Cait struggled and thrashed to break free of his hold. "Sam! That is my husband!" She screamed his name again, her vision tunnelling until he was all she could see. "SAM!"

At once, the hands that restrained her began to assist her. Guiding Cait to the waiting ambulance, the officer took her to the passenger seat and asked her to wait so they could help Sam. "Wait! What happened to him? Who hurt him?" She begged. 

"We're getting statements from witnesses now, Ma'am. You just wait here, they're about ready to load him up. Is there someone you can call to meet you?" The officer's expression was kind while maintaining that air of careful detachment. Cait shook her head, raindrops from her hair dripping down to mingle with the tears that were beginning to flow. "No. No one local." She whispered as she began to shake.

The slamming of the rear doors signaled their imminent departure and Cait stared blindly out the window as lights and sirens whisked them to the nearest emergency room.

Getting through admittance was like navigating through the seven layers of hell. Name. Birth date. Address. Relationship to the victim. (Victim? The very word sent a new chill through her.) Question after question that seemed so irrelevant when her whole world was crashing around her. The image of Sam's blood draining from his body just to swirl away into nothingness would haunt her the rest of her days. Finally, -finally- they let her go to the waiting area. Still soaked, she sat waiting in a chair, shivering from shock and the chill until someone draped a warm blanket over her shoulders. Looking up from her shaking hands, she met the kind face of an aide. "Thank you." She murmured. "Can you tell me...?" When her question was met with a negative shake, she trailed off, nodding. "I understand. Thank you."

An eternity seemed to pass with Cait lost in her thoughts. Every worst case scenario played out in her mind like some waking nightmare that she couldn't escape from. She felt disembodied, filtering through each option through her mind's eye. Was he hit by a car? Knifed? Shot? A fight? Every scene had the same ending: his life's blood draining away and leaving her a widow. 

A man approached, snapping her attention back to the present. "Mrs. Heughan?" 

Coming to her feet while clutching the blanket, Cait nodded. "How is he?" 

"Come with me, please. They are still working on your husband, I'm with the police department." Leading her from the waiting area, he took her down the hallway to another room with a table and chairs. "Have a seat, please. Can I get you a cup of coffee or tea?" 

"No, thank you." Dropping into a chair, Cait tucked the blanket around her tighter, shielding herself from what was to come. "Can you tell me what happened to him?" Her patience wearing thin, it was all she could do to keep her voice calm. If someone didn't start giving her some answers, she was going to completely lose her shit. The desperation to know yet the fear of what was to come was driving her mad.

The man took a seat in the chair across from her and regarded her with sympathetic eyes. They are green, like olives, she noticed. "Your husband is quite a hero. Do you know that?" Without waiting for a reply, he continued, "Apparently, he witnessed a man and woman getting into a physical altercation and stepped between them. The man had a switchblade." 

Cait felt her stomach churn at his words. A knife. The tremors returned anew and she couldn't stop the quaver in her voice. "He can't help himself. He has to help when he sees a need." 

The man with the olive eyes nodded. "Well, he saved that woman's life. She told us that her abusive ex-husband had been threatening to find and kill her. He surprised her at the coffee shop. She told us that he was trying to force her into a car when your husband stepped in."

Tears blurred her vision. "Is she... is she okay? Did you arrest him?" Please, if you are there God, don't let it all be for naught, she cried in her heart.

Shifting in his chair, he spoke, an edge to his voice. "He fled the scene, we have officers searching for him now. The woman is fine, thanks to your husband and she is assisting with the search." Leaning forward, he met her watery eyes with purpose. "We will not let him get away with this."

A knock at the door interrupted any further conversation and a nurse poked her head in the room. "Mrs. Heughan? The doctor is here to see you." 

Darkness danced at the edge of her vision and Cait swallowed the dry lump that has formed in her throat. The moment of truth had arrived. Unable to pass words through her lips, she nodded and made to stand. 

"Oh no, he will come in to see you, if you are finished here?" She addressed the officer. 

He nodded and stood, slipping a card across the table to her. "We will be in contact." 

Cait stared blankly at the empty chair before her, steeling herself for the news she is sure to hear. Feeling her heart beginning to pound like war drums, she forced herself to take a long deep breath. Then another and another until she felt a semblance of control. 

A young man was seated across from her, apparently waiting for her to focus upon him. Good Lord, were they hiring right out of primary school now? He didn't look older than 20. Trying to gauge his expression, she couldn't tell if he was about to deliver good news or kill her with his words. 

"Mrs. Heughan, your husband is in surgery right now. I won't mislead you, he is in dangerously critical condition." At her nod of understanding, he continued. "They are working to stop the internal bleeding and repair the damage. Unfortunately, the knife perforated his small intestine, liver and his left lung." 

Feeling lightheaded, Cait began to shake uncontrollably as a fresh rush of tears blinded her. 'Oh Sam...' she thought. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid!'

"...several hours before you can see him. Is there anyone you can call?" She realized he was still speaking to her and brought her wandering mind back. 

"What? I mean, no. My cell is at home and there is no family here." She shook her head then paused, "Did you find Sam's cell? I need to call his Mum."


	2. Chapter 2

The chill of the rain had subsided by the time Caitriona found herself at Sam's bedside. A change into dry clothes had gone a long way to provide physical comfort but it was the tremors of bone-deep terror that left her shuddering in her chair. She kept her fingers twined with his, careful of the IV and monitor lines that seemed to cover every bit of exposed skin. It was all she could do to look at his deathly still face, even as she couldn't get enough of seeing proof of life in the rise and fall of his heavily bandaged chest. Words and phrases played on repeat through her mind, like an earworm from the depths of hell. "Blood loss... severe damage... call the family... prepare yourself..." 

She had been so alone in the waiting room. "Waiting," being the key word. It had left her with a feeling of complete helplessness. Suspended through time and space, the comings and goings of the outside world ceased to exist. Everything that mattered in her universe was taking place in a sterile room somewhere in the cavernous belly of the hospital. Strangers drifted by, like planets cut free from their orbit, their trajectory no longer ordered and sensical as they floated through their own vacuum of space. 

The arrival of Jon, Sam's trainer from the gym, like a whirlwind through the flung-open door had been the lifeline she desperately needed.

"Cait!" Jon jogged to her, his arms open to catch her collapsing into his chest.

"What are you... how did you...?" She gaped at him. "I left my mobile at home..."

Jon gave her a squeeze then let her go, holding her at arm's length. "My mobile has been blowing up for the past hour. It is all over Twitter. I got here as soon as I could. How can I help?"

Caitriona's head swam as she struggled to grasp his meaning. His heavy Scots accent always gave her pause. "What do you mean it's all over Twitter?"

He cast her a look that clearly doubted her faculties. "You ken there are a dozen cameras within a stone's throw at all times? The whole world knows what happened... and your cover is blown."

Realization dawned in her mind with the slow light of a winter sunrise. The shadows retreated from their hold on the land, revealing the true painful brilliance of an icy landscape. "Oh my God..." She whispered.

"Aye." Jon nodded, his expression grave. "Now, how can I help? Do you need anything from home? Your phone? A change of clothes? Some food?"

Which is how Caitriona came to be sitting by Sam's side several hours later when he finally came out of surgery. A belly full of hot food, clean clothes and her mobile... powered down. Turning her phone on had unleashed a tsunami of text, voicemail and missed call notifications that she wasn't in any shape to deal with. A social media shitstorm of epic proportions was currently destroying everything that she and Sam had built over the previous six years and she couldn't cope. Seeing her distress, Jon stepped up and handled calling Sam's Mum and brother for her, as well as her own parents and the nanny to make arrangements for the kids. The man deserved a gold medal. Sainthood. A ticket straight to paradise.

She knew she should be more concerned with what her little public outburst was going to cause. Shouting to the world that Sam Heughan was her husband and not just her good-buddy co-star was sure to cause problems she couldn't begin to fathom. 

Looking at Sam, near death with no guarantee of recovery, Caitriona couldn't bring herself to give a shit about the narrative or the script or the powers that be. None of it mattered if Sam... 

She straightened in her seat abruptly. No. She wouldn't be boarding that train of thought. 

Turning her eyes to the screens that displayed the progress of Sam's condition, she tried to make sense of them all. Pulse. Respiration. Blood Pressure. Those looked familiar and fairly okay, she thought. At least nothing was blaring an alarm and no one was shoving their way in to eject her from his side. "God help anyone who tries," she muttered under her breath. There were other monitors that she was completely in the dark about but as long as nothing started screaming or flashing, she was going to consider it a good sign. 

A soft knock at the door pulled her attention away from Sam. "Chrissie..." Standing to greet Sam's Mum, they wrapped up in each other's arms. Neither one was able to hold back the sobs and tears that surged to the surface as they clung to one another. "I am so sorry." she whispered in her mother-in-law's hair.

"What on earth have you to be sorry for, dear?" Caitriona found herself being hugged tighter, as if to rebuff her apology.

"He was meeting me at the coffee shop. I was late... I got caught in the rain. If I had been there..." Now she was just babbling nonsense. She knew it, but she could not stop the flood of self-blame and regret from pouring out. 

Guiding her to the chair near the window, Chrissie sat her down. "You cannot blame yourself. I spoke to the policeman, Sam was just being Sam. Self-sacrificing and chivalrous." Going to her son, she fluttered her fingertips through his hair and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. Gazing down at him with a look that was chock full of love, fear and a great deal of pride. 

"We all know how he is. No regard for himself when another is in need." Her voice grew thick and she sat down heavily in the chair Cait had been occupying. Grasping his hand in her own, she rubbed his fingers gently. "Oh, Sam. You heroic damn fool." She whispered as she bowed her head and began to weep.

*******************

The hours passed slowly, marked only by nurses coming to check Sam's vitals. Peering at the monitors. Speaking quiet platitudes to Caitriona and Chrissie as they emptied his catheter bag. They notated their findings, asked if they could get his silent sentries anything and took their leave. Cait and Chrissie rotated from chair to chair, trying to get comfortable in one or the other. Neither of them able to get any real sleep, but they weren't willing to leave Sam's side for even a moment. 

It was mid-morning the following day when the surgeon stopped in. "Mrs. Heughan?" Both heads, one dark and one blonde, swiveled to meet his gaze. 

"Yes?" They answered in unison. 

He blinked and chuckled. "Mother and wife, I presume? I am Dr. Leighton Halligan, I spent a great many hours working on this young man yesterday and I wanted to check in on him."

Cait stood to take his hand. "I'm Caitriona, his wife. Thank you so very much for saving his life." she whispered. "This is his Mum, Chrissie." 

Introductions made, Dr Halligan spent a few moments reviewing Sam's chart and inspecting the incisions under the numerous bandages. Seemingly satisfied, he perched on the edge of the bed near Sam's feet, clasped his hands together in his lap and leveled them with a direct stare. 

"The fact that Sam survived the night is a testament to his will to live. In all honesty, I am surprised he is still with us." He began. Chrissie's hand clasped Cait's in a grip that left her fingertips white and numb. Cait felt as if her very breath had been stolen from her lungs and her teeth began to chatter. She clenched her jaw until it ached.

The Doctor continued, "Now, while he has made it this far, he is by no means out of danger. I have never seen anyone with injuries this severe survive this long, so I cannot give you a timeline. Right now, we have him in a medically induced coma so he can rest and heal. We typically reserve this course of action for traumatic brain injuries but any amount of struggling could rupture everything I repaired and he would not survive." Cait felt like a butterfly pinned under glass, terror sweeping through her and leaving her utterly helpless. A small whimper escaped her lips unbidden and tears blurred her vision. 

Softening his tone, he smiled gently, as if trying to be reassuring. "I apologize if I'm too blunt, but I don't believe in giving false hope. What we are witness to here is nothing short of a miracle. If you pray, now is the time... and if you don't, maybe think about starting." With that, he stood and turned to leave, pausing at the door. "You will see me again, I have a vested interest in this young man." His voice dropped to a whisper, "I just learned it was my sister he saved." With a quick nod, he turned and exited the room.

Feeling like she had just taken a punch to the gut, Cait turned to Chrissie and sagged into her arms, sobs tearing out of her. She knew it was bad but to hear just how close to death's door Sam was ... it utterly destroyed her. To think of going home to their children and having to explain that Da isn't coming home... she choked on her heartbreak and pulled her mother-in-law closer. 

"What am I going to do if he dies?" she wailed. "Please God, don't take him from me!"

****************************

The next few days were spent taking turns at Sam's bedside with brief moments at home to clean up, take a real nap and spend time with the kids. Each hour that passed, every visit with the surgeon brought Caitriona a glimmer of hope and she channeled that energy to buoy her spirits when she was home. The kids were young enough that she just told them Da was at work and wouldn't be home for a long while. It was only later, scrubbing the scent of hospital disinfectant from her skin, that she allowed herself to fall to the shower floor and sob until she couldn't breathe. Hoping her grief, misery and terror would swirl down the drain, leaving her able to face another day. 

Talking with Chris Parnell from Sony hadn't been fun, but compared to watching Sam survive by means of mechanical assistance, it wasn't the worst thing she had been through. Video clips from all angles had captured Caitriona Balfe, in all her panicked and sodden glory, screaming into the face of a policeman that Sam Heughan is her husband. Parnell made an outrageous demand for her to issue a public retraction, claiming that she had misspoken. When she openly laughed at him, next came the thinly veiled threats of being reprimanded financially or just flat out black-balling her. 

Every social media channel had been blasted with the videos and it was now the trending topic on all of the Hollywood gossip shows. The revelation of their secret marriage seemed to be a bigger crisis than the fact that Sam had been critically wounded and was fighting for his life. By the end of her call with Parnell, (God, how she missed the satisfaction of slamming down the phone) she had been wondering, again, why she ever convinced Sam to agree to go along with this insane farce. The dangled carrot of A-list movies had never really panned out and in return, their lives felt like a bad script of sleight-of-hand and redirection. The stress was incredible and, as much as she reassured Sam that she was happy with their life, in her heart she longed to live in freedom and truth. 

A few journalists had started camping out at the hospital entrance so Cait and Chrissie had taken to using the back door by the loading docks to come and go. Their publicists had adopted a "No comment" stance and asked for privacy while Sam remained hospitalized. Cait knew it was only a matter of time before she had to feed the wolves, but for now, she was focused solely on her family. Parnell and Company could sit and spin for all she cared. 

Though the manhunt seemed to cover every back alley and townhouse in all of Glasgow, it was as if the assailant had simply vanished into thin air. Three days after the attack, while Caitriona sat with Sam, a soft knock preceded the appearance of a timid looking young lady. "Can I help you?"

"Are you Mrs. Heughan?" Taking a small step in the room, her hand gripped the door jamb as if she were ready to shove off and bolt.

"You are...?" Ever suspicious of a sneaky journalist, Cait refused to confirm but kept her tone polite.

"My name is Marisol Halligan. My brother told me I could find you here...." Her eyes moved to Sam and Cait could see the blood draining from the young woman's face. "He ... I mean, your husband ... he saved me..." Her elven face crumbled and tears began to gather and drip from her lashes to run down her cheeks. "I am so sorry this happened to him!" Gasping sobs turned her into a quivering mess looking on the verge of collapse so Caitriona went to her, filled with a compassion that she usually didn’t extend toward strangers.

"Please, come in and sit with me." Wrapping her arm around the much smaller woman's shoulders, Cait led her to the other seat. She felt awkward with nothing to offer, the only drink available was her own cafeteria coffee. They sat together while Marisol's sobs wrung themselves out before Cait asked softly, "How are you doing?"

Pulling in a deep breath, the little brunette determinedly straightened her shoulders and met Cait's eyes. "Physically, I am fine. Thanks to your husband. He saved my life." Unable to maintain eye contact any longer, her gaze skipped across the room, flitting from the various potted plants and flowers, pausing for a moment on the children's artwork, then on to the sink and window before finally landing on Sam. Caitriona noticed that her eyes were a rich chocolate brown and dominated her face. She reminded Cait of an anime character come to life.

Smiling sadly, Cait nodded. "I'm glad you are okay. Sam here. He fancies himself a bit of a knight in shining armor." Reaching out her hand, she grasped his, tracing the long fingers with her thumb. "I know he would do it all over again."

Marisol's face trembled as she struggled to contain her emotions and Cait turned her gaze to Sam, letting the young woman compose herself in privacy. "I wish there were some way to repay, to make this right."

"Are you someplace safe?" Cait wondered. "That would be what Sam would want. What I want. That you are safe."

"As safe as I can be, I suppose. I'm living with my brother, Leighton. I have no other place to go and Matthew, my ex, knows where we live and where we both work." Twisting her fingers together, making a right tangle of them, Marisol stood up to pace. "We split after we moved here from the States, when Leighton saw what he ... what he is capable of. He convinced me to leave Matthew. We divorced and for a while he left me alone but he saw me once, out on a lunch date with another man and freaked out in the diner. I had to get a restraining order against him and he took to stalking me online and through my cell. Even when I changed numbers, he was able to find me. He threatened to kill me, to kill my brother. Said if he ever found me, he was going to make sure no one else could have me. The police could never find him, they have everything he ever sent to me but he always stayed ahead of them. I had just left work to grab a cup of coffee when he found me at the cafe that day."

The story poured out of her like a failed dam and Cait felt like she was being carried away by the floodwater of her emotions. God, the torture this young lady had been through... Cait couldn't even imagine what it must be like to live in such fear of the one who had promised to love and protect you. Her heart ached with gratitude for the man she had been blessed with. The husband who had nearly been stolen from her by the very man who terrorized this young lady. 

Marisol's voice and body trembled in unison as she sank to the chair and began rocking, her arms crossed, fists clenched. "He had me by the arm and was trying to force me into a car. I fought and screamed but he was so strong! When your husband appeared, he ... he pulled Matthew off of me and shoved me out of the way and grabbed Matthew in a bear hug. That's when he... when he... when Matthew started stabbing him." The last of her fortitude spent, Marisol folded in on herself and cried bitterly into her own lap. Caitriona sat, frozen in shock and a renewed sense of terror at the mental image. Part of her wanted to comfort the poor woman in front of her, but she had no comfort to give. She needed comfort herself from the man who lay so deathly still before her. 

Immersed as they were in the avalanche of their personal and shared grief, a sudden beeping startled them both into awareness. Cait frantically scanned one monitor after another, trying to discern which one was alerting when the thunder of quickly approaching feet was followed by the appearance of two nurses. 

"Stand back!" One of them barked and Cait didn't hesitate to shrink back by the window, trying to make herself as small as possible. Holding Marisol by the shoulders, the two women clung to each other, watching in horror as Sam's body began to convulse.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's POV.

I am screaming before I realize I am real.  
Searing, white-hot pain like I've never known before wraps around me in an embrace so fierce, I cannot move.   
Every single cell of my body feels like it is on fire. My veins, every fiber of my body is burning like a lit fuse.   
My sight has left me. I am blinded by a black so deep it pulls at my soul.   
I cannot hear anything except my own screams, the sound like nothing I knew I was capable of.  
All that was once pleasure and comfort has abandoned me.   
Am I dying?   
I must be for no one may bear this agony and survive.   
Or, am I in Hell? 

I close my mind, trying to escape the flames that consume me.   
How can I make myself die?   
My mind writhes as I am torn to shreds from the inside. There is no escape.  
What is happening to me?   
Time has no beginning and no end.   
I have no sense of how long I have been like this.   
Seconds?   
Years?   
Eternity?  
How much longer must I go on? 

My eyes are seared from behind clenched lids by a sudden light.   
I hear the sound of ... of ... What is that?  
The fire is ... it's gone as if it never was.   
Slowly, I test my body.   
Stretching and flexing but something is wrong.   
I cannot feel.  
Anything.   
Am I dead?   
WAIT! I changed my mind!   
I don't want to die! 

Forcing my eyes open, I am disoriented by what I see. It doesn't make any sense. 

There is someone lying flat on a bed. It must be a hospital, so many machines surround the bed and cover the body. I see two people to one side of the bed. Both dark haired, they are huddled together as if grieving. I realize I am looking at this from above. Like a bird?

What is this? 

I look closer at the body on the bed and recoil.   
Is...   
Is... that... me? 

A rush of visions wash through my mind's eye.  
A man and a woman.  
Screaming.   
Struggling.  
I push them apart and try to hold the man.  
Searing pain in my chest and stomach; it comes back and I flinch away from the memory.

Looking again at the women, I realize that they are my wife and... Who is that? I want to reach out to Cait to hold her and I stretch my hand towards my wife. Shocked, I find myself in front of her with no consciousness of actually moving. 

What the hell? Did I just teleport? 

Staring into her eyes, I realize she is looking right through me to the me that is on the bed. "Cait. Baby. I'm right here." For some reason I need her to see me. I feel like I am going to fade away if she doesn't see that I am here. I bring my face so close to her, our noses should be touching. I am startled that even at this close range, I keep her in perfect focus. Her eyes are such a unique and beautiful blue. I want to drown in them but the grief and despair that fills her gaze breaks my heart. "Oh, Cait..." I whisper.

Reaching for her face, my fingers slide right through her, unable to find purchase on her skin. 

I bite back a sob. Anguish flooding me. What am I going to do? 

I cannot leave her. Leave my family. 

Turning to the stranger, I try to touch her but, again, nothing. A hint of familiarity niggles at the back of my memory. Who is she?

Am I a ... a ... ghost? 

In a blink, I am looking at my body. It is a surreal experience, to be looking down at myself. Especially when I look so ... dead.

I try to make sense of the machines and monitors but they tell me nothing. My chest and stomach are covered in bandages. Wires and tubes and shit all over and I can see that my chest is rising and falling with the breaths of air being forced into my body. ... but if I am alive, why am I outside? 

A voice like a whisper startles me and I turn to look through the door. Who is there? Again with the teleportation, I am at the doorway before even realizing I want to move. I peer through to the outside, trying to locate the source but it is like looking into a dark .. no, not just dark. I am looking into pure blackness. My hand reaches out to gauge the darkness but something stops it. 

If I could feel anything, I am sure a cold chill would be pouring down my spine.

I cannot go through it. 

I am not sure that I want to. 

Shying away from The Black, I turn back to my wife. God, she looks so wretchedly tired. Still gorgeous, but the exhaustion is disintegrating her. She didn't look this bad after 37 hours of back labor and six wall-shaking hours of pushing our first daughter into the world. I glance back at my own body again; it must be really horrific. 

Looking at the woman next to Cait, I study her closely. She is crying, her head bent over her knees and I can hear her now, whispering "I'm sorry," repeatedly. Is she the girl? The one that I was trying to help? I am not sure, but I feel a sense of peace when I look at her. 

"GET BACK HERE!" The voice comes from outside the room, a deep, frightening sound that fills me with a terror I've never known.

Suddenly, I realize that I am moving against my will. I am being pulled away from my wife and I reach out for her. "Cait!" I cry, but she doesn't hear me. A roar of evil echoes in my head and I snap across the room toward my body as the fire consumes me again.

Her name is the last word through my lips before I start screaming again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone that has been waiting for another chapter, I apologize for the extended delay. I managed to hurt myself and it has been impossible for me to sit for any period of time. (Writing on my phone is an exercise in futility, I NEED a real keyboard.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to my kickass beta, audramh for the enthusiasm, encouragement and hand-holding! Love you, my friend!

After watching the nurses bring Sam's shuddering body back to calm, Marisol hugged Cait goodbye and, with a promise to check in again, took her leave. Cait didn't blame her, even thought it was over in minutes, seeing Sam jerking and thrashing on the bed was bloody unnerving. No wonder the poor girl ran off.

While waiting for the doctor to arrive, Cait pulled her chair to Sam's bedside and grasped his hand. It was warm, comforting against her own frigid fingers; the irony of it not lost on her. "Damn it, Sam. What are you trying to do to me?" she scolded gently. The seizure had come and gone with astonishing swiftness. He looked so calm and peaceful now, it was almost easy to believe that he hadn't been fighting for his very life just moments before.

One of the nurses lingered, rechecking the bandages that swathed his midsection. Cait watched her face (was it Amy?) for signs that something was amiss, but after a few satisfied sounding hums, she was hopeful that he hadn't further damaged himself. Just as she finished up, Dr. Halligan arrived with a knuckle-tap on the door. "Hello, Mrs. Heughan," he smiled. "I hear Sam has been causing a little bit of excitement?"

Cait huffed a mirthless laugh, "You could say that."

He conferred with Nurse Amy for a few moments, Cait only half-catching the medical terms they bandied about, her fingers twining with those of Sam, taking comfort in the feel of their length and warmth. If only they weren't so ... lifeless. What she would give to feel them gripping her back.

"All right then," he began as Nurse Amy left the room. "I know it was probably extremely frightening to witness, but a seizure is actually a promising sign. It is an indication of brain activity which is always a good thing. Some believe that it is the brain 'rebooting' itself, as it were. Does this make sense?"

With a nod, Cait beckoned him to carry on.

Sitting down in the seat next to her, he continued. "Now, the best news is that his wounds are healing very well and he didn't seem to cause any damage with his thrashing about. I feel comfortable weaning him off of the medication we have been using to keep him sedated. So, with your permission, I would like to start waking him."

Tears stung Cait's eyes and she didn't bother with trying to hold them in. To see Sam's clear blue gaze looking back at her... it was more than she had let herself hope for. Wiping at her wet cheeks, she nodded, "Please, do."

Forty hours and three seizures later, Sam still hadn't opened his eyes.

Numb with the exhaustion of trying to maintain hope, Cait crawled into Sam's bed. Mindful of the IV line, catheter and his bandages, she pressed her body to his whilst gripping his hand with both of her own. Burying her face into his neck, she bawled her eyes out until sleep dragged her into its abyss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The halls of the hospital are dark, only a faint red glow marking EXIT visible in the distance. Cait trails her hand along the wall as she makes her way from one doorway to another, peering into each one but seeing nothing. Literally, nothing but blackness.

"Hello?" She calls, "Is there anybody here?"

Behind her, she hears a faint rustle, a whisper of sound, and she whirls around. "Who's there?!" A chill flickers down her back, raising the tiny hairs along the back of her neck and arms. Her eyes are straining to see, ears pricked to capture the slightest sound.

She hears it again, a bit clearer, and it sounds like a whimper of fear or pain. Reaching one hand out in front of her to grope her way through the darkness, Cait calls again, "Where are you? I won't hurt you." 

The whimper comes again, a little louder, with a scuffling sound, like someone trying to escape. 

"Please. Please don't be afraid," she whispers. "My name is Cait. I can help you." Can she? She doesn't know, but she doesn't want to be alone.

"Cait?" 

It is nothing more than a breath of sound but it drops her heart to the floor. "Sam?" She lunges in the direction of his voice, stumbling over her own feet until she strikes a wall. Groping her way madly along, gasping and cursing when she can't find a doorway, "Sam! Where are you, Baby?" 

"Hiding." 

Now his voice is behind her, she went too far. Turning, she lurches across the hall, hoping to find a door, anything that will help her find him. "Sam, come out. Please come out to me." She is near to sobbing now, desperation coursing through her body with each rapid heartbeat. 

"I can't."

"Why not? I'm right here. Please, Baby, please," she begs. Her eyes desperately trying to see something, anything, in the darkness even as tears course their way down her cheeks. 

"I'm scared." 

At that, she freezes, her skin tingling at the fear she hears in his voice. Straining to see, to hear anything other than the pounding of her heart in her ears, Cait cautiously inches her way toward Sam's voice. Both hands stretching out before her. "Why are you scared, Love?" she whispers, not sure she wants to know the answer but she has to keep him talking. 

Nothing. 

Trembling with fear and an overdose of adrenaline, Cait nearly screams when her hands strike what feels like a door jamb.   
"Sam?" She whispers. "Are you in here?"

Cait doesn't hear anything, but instinct commands that she search this room. Beginning at the wall to her right, she makes her away around the perimeter of the room, one hand on the wall, the other searching in front and to the other side. Only a few steps in and she nudges what turns out to be a chair with her hip. Finding it empty, she continues on, barely daring to breathe. Something has Sam terrified and that knowledge has her on edge and trying to break down in a blind panic. 

Just as she stubs her toes against something, she hears a pained whimper. Dropping to her knees, Cait runs both hands over the form curled up on the floor. Hunched shoulders, arms crossed over a head full of sweat covered curls, Cait would know him anywhere. "Sam! Oh my God. Sam, it's me, Baby. I've got you." She wraps her arms tight around his trembling body and drops kisses across the back of his neck and along his shoulders. 

She stays with him, whispering nonsense, covering him with love and comfort until she feels the shaking subside. "Sam. Please come with me. Let's go home."

"Home?" Her heart aches at the wistful lilt in his voice. She can feel him lift his head then, turning his face toward her. Grasping his face in her hands, she finds his lips with her own and pours all of the love she has for him into the kiss. 

When he pulls back to gasp for air, she repeats herself. "We need to go home. Our family is waiting for us." She grasps his hands in her own, relishing the feel of his fingers squeezing in return, and rises to her feet. Slowly, he pulls himself up to stand next to her and they take a tentative step toward the door.


End file.
